| The Hemp Industry | 1 of the Philippines, | THE prospector seeking for in vestment need not dig below the surface in the Philippines. The culture and harvesting of hemp is the biggest gold miue he will find. The islands seem to have been especially made for the benefit of the abaca plant. The moist though not swampy country to the south of Manila, the Samar, Leyte and Cebu, would produce a solid over growth of the abaca trees if left to take its own course. The tree itself resembles closely the banana palm, but differs essentially in the fineness of its fibre and its bar renness of fruit. The natives, too, seem to have been &speci...ly provided for the hemp coun try. Tending to improvidence and in dolency, the hemp industry furnishes them employment whenever they run short of rice and tobacco, for hemp can be harvested almost at any time except duiing the short rainy season. Attempts have been made to trans plant tlie hemp trees, taking them only as far away as Borneo, but the musa textiles refused to cohabitate with any but Philippine soil. The Pacific slopes of the volcanic regions of the islands produce the best plants. Although the abaca tree coddles to thin soil, and rather dry, quickly drained localities, the trunk and leaves demand frequent and abundant moisture. Given tiie proper conditions, the vast plantations will thrive like asparagus beds. Very little cultivation is required; nn occa sional weeding and a replanting at the harvest time and nature does the rest. The crop is not gathered as if it were a corn field, but the trees are found in all stages of growth, and the native passes through regular routes, slashing a plant here and there, his practiced eye the sole Judge of its ma turity. Three years is the proper age for harvesting. The hemp-stripper goes forth much as a huntsman ' " * HARVESTING THE AIIACA.OR IIEMR PLANT. would. With his holo in belt and a bamboo canteen full of rice slung over his shoulder, lie hies himself to the uplands. After feeling tlie plants, which at the age of three years are About ten feet high, he proceeds to clip off a shoot and rep ant it. After a number of trees are cut the strip ping process begins. Als the leaves are torn oft' and the outer skin of the s'alk is peele.l off. Inside of the trunk is a pithy suostam-e. and around this are layers of fibre imbedded in a soft juicy substance. The fibre must be separated from the stalk at once lest it rot. Manj" Americans have cher ished tiie idea of exporting the trunk intact, but the enterprise is not feasi ble because of the perishable nature of the pulpous segreiuent. A bamboo-made bench is Impro vised, and at one end the stripper binds his bolo; the handle attached to his foot by another bamboo strip Across the blade he draws the stalk until the fibre is thoroughly separated without injury, preserving its length of from eight to ten feet, and leaving It tine and beautiful that the tropical sun may lick up the moisture still bleeding from the operation. The work of stripping is very tiresome and requires tile skill of a trained blind. The white mnn has often attempted to Improve upon tie* blown man's method ot stripping tiie hemp, but de spite expenditures ami IngeuiolH mechanical contrivances no machine r I Nt.ttAlM.Mi tlK*II» AT i Kill'. Ii«» Ittfn iirudnvtxl thai tuki* tht> *>f ilu- ukllm'. )*iituuta him* twin tuUiii <>ut, ami Itirtft- mini* of itiouvjf •lu-ui uiMMt #*|>fi'lim'Uiiil iiiiK'Uliu'M, but i ln- texture <iml (Hfiillur uatur* of the MtlMl'il |(|ullt Wflll to r«'l|Ull'« I In* luuvU uf Uuiuuu buuti* tu ii'|>ut«U tU parts. As well try to produce a ma chine to comb the snarls out of a wom an's hair as to make a mechanical hemp-stripper. The native is paid for his work In hemp, dividing the product equally witli the plantation owner. When he cuts and strips all he can carry, he twists up the fibre into a great roll and goes down to the plantation own er's hous-, and there the division is made. 1 hey then hang up the rolls until the middle man or contractor comes along and a bargain is struck. The bales are crudely fastened to gether and carried to the nearest port - HALING HEMP. and shipped usually to Manila, where they are separated, relialed and shipped either to Hons Kong, where there is an immense rope-walk, or to New York, l?oston or London. The rope-walk at Hons Kong is one of the largest in the world. Its product prac tically supplies China, Japan and Aus tralia. Very little hemp is made inlo rope or twine in Manila. Although crude rope-walks exist in different parts of the island, their manufac tured article, although strong and durablo, would not compete in the for elgh market. Hemp subserves every purpose that leather might with the native. He twists It into sandals, uses it for harnesses, and It answers for bindeis In the building of his nlpa hut. The utility of hemp is well un derstood to the Filipino. The finer quality Is selected and reserved for weaving purposes, being made up into really handsome cloth, while the or dinary hemp is universally used to make a coarse though durable mate rial, worn generally by the natives, who delight In gaudy colors and pic turesque though scanty costumes. There is still another texture woven front the selected strands of outer tibre, intermixed with the fibre of the pine-leaf. The cloth has the semblance ERTING HEMP ON A MANILA WfIABF. of unfinished silk, and is pretty and durable, though not as beautiful or dressy as the pure pine-leaf fibre silk known as piua cloth, the best woven product of the islands. The entire hemp Industry of the Philippines is still worked by primi tive metaods and with simple contriv ances. 'Lhe native, though uuambl tions himself, is jealous of the China man. and Is averse to the Celestial get ting contriii of tin- plantations or con tracts, while scorning oils himself. The "Cheno," however, has made .uroads in this industry, as well as in others in the Philippines. Had lie nut, the development would not liavi> lii-i'ii ii* rapid n* It lia*. Tlu« imtivf I* tbiiroiitfbly •aim Ml', and tin <|i-r*(iilitla lilt) tivului<-ut of tlto plant iiinl 11m hiirvi'dlnv, uud t-t>ult| ln< In induced to work with r«*ifuUrlty would l»< a» good N UlKiri'l' H* tin- ('III UK 111 uiiiu. but 'lio tVUatlul usuuil) tuuirvl* the baling and local marketing of the hemp. The presses at the seaport towns are crude affairs. After the fibre Is classi fy and separated Into three piles or classes. It Is dumped in bulk Into n huge press and a screw applied. Af ter tliis operation it is taken out and put into another press of more regplar design and of more imposing charac ter. The second press is operated by an eight-armed capstan on an over head plattorm, and a score or more of naked coolies, usually Chinese, push it around. The sight is most amusing. With grunts, laughs and confused jar gon and raillery they urge each othev on and manage to bring their strength together at loudly accentuated periods. A good-sized press will turn out 300 to 400 bales a day, and in the course of a year a million or more bales are prepared lor shipment. In Cebn large quantities are handled, principally the products of Leyte and Samar, al though in Manila the largest presses are in operation. The classification of hemp requires the skill of an old hand, and the expe rienced eye of a buyer who knows all the tricks i>t" the trade. The native 'will bring his hemp down from the plantation in a moist state and offer it for sale at night, hoping thus to fool the middle-man as to weight aud qual ity, but as this part of the business is mostly in the hands of the Chinese, there is little danger that they will be deceived or cheated. The China man is the sharpest bargain-driver in the world, aud whether U is hemp, silk or old junk, he is fully capable of looking after his interests. Fine ness of fibre, color, strength and length determine the value and grade of hemp. If it be carefully stripped over a smooth knife, immediately aud thoroughly dried, and of good length, it will bring the highest price. If it be carelessly stripped, juice being left In the tibre, it loses its color and be comes coarse. It then is considered of a second and third grade quality and brings a smaller price. The na tive watches the market, and if he hear ti-at the demand is heavy he takes advantage of the middle-man and compels hint to pay first-grade prices for second and third grade pro duets. Formerly hemp brought In Ma nila front S7O to sl.lO per ton, always fluctuating according to the supply, at times going up to s.'loo per ton, but at present the price is practically pro hibitive, and it looks as If it would remain so for the next two years.—Ed win Wildruaii, in Harper's Weekly. lVlltl Sheep Shooting. The sheep began to move toward us, It had been a long cllntb to get be yond and above them, but now we had our reward. On they came, only two hundred yards away. I could see their white muzzles,as though they had been sticking their noses into a Hour bag. Now 1 could see the wrin kles In the horns of the rams. The hoofs of the advancing flock made a swishing, pattering sound, and they were only tifty yards away. I took the nearest ram, and he never drew breath again. Johnnie's forty-four barked spitefully, lie made a neat hit ou another ram, furfher away than my already dying victim, but failed to stop It. Those sheep did not sail away like deer, touching here and there a high place. They flattened themselves out, shot around a corner, and were gone. Johnnie followed, and I was alone. In a few seconds I heard Johnnie's gun feebly thumping away. There was no echoing roar, such as you hear in tl.c thick woods. I picked my way cautiously lifter Johnnie, nml when I saw the jumps he had made, and the chances he had taken, I knew there was much for nie to learn about hasty mountain travel. Johnnie shot siv times, and two hundred yards ahead, ou the crooked, rocky descent the sheep had taken. 1 found liini ou his knees by the big ram. Three bul lets had struck.—Herlbuer's. Ute Fat Man'* I're-Kiiiliienre. We are pretty sure for long gener atlons of seeing the preponderance of northern races. One of their peculiar ities Is that of being heavy eaters. This U inconsistent with a clean built figure. The modem capitalist rarely conic* from a climate like that of Ath ens or Naples. lie fortifies himself against the long winters of New York, l.undou,Amsterdam, Merlin and frank fort by substantial ami oft recurring meals. Ills hotly is a quick combus tion stove wrapped up lu warm gar ments lhitt prevent light, easy niotloll. Men of the money-making class huve considerable girth of waistcoat.—Lou dou Truth. The tonnage of the whole mercan tile steam marine of Uiissla. Japan or llollaud docs not equal the touuagtf of the merchant vessels taken over by the KugllsU goveruuieut as trans ports. DOCS CO IN SHOE LEATHER. Can In« Footgear w Worn in tli« Klondike. One of the greatest dangers con fronting travelers In parts of the world where dogs take the place of horses Is that the dogs which draw sleds or transport goods may freeze their feet by contact with Ice, and so injure them A DOG SHOE FOR KLONDIKE WEAK. that the animals become practically useless, and must be abandoned, to the endangerment of the life of the traveler who has put his trust In ca nine motive power. As a precaution against misfortune of this kiud it has been a common thing to wrap the dog's feet in cloth, a piece of leather or rubber. At best all of these, however, were crude and poorly adapted to carry out the desired object. They protected the dogs' feet, but at the same time interfered with the free use of their legs. The devel opment of the Klondike has given spe cial impetus to the demand for some proper protection for dogs' feet. The liog's shoe, of which the accom panying photograp! was sent from the far Northwest to Shoe and Leather Facts, is made of chrome tanned elk leather, and the upper or calf, making a soft, pliable anil yet comfortable shoe. There is a tongue at the back, and the lacings are at the back of the leg Instead of on the front, because a dog's knee bends just opposite from a man's. The dogs, it is said, take very kindly to these shoes. They become so ac customed to wearing them that the.v don't like togo without them, witli the result that on the trail they will often come up to the driver in the morning and hold out their legs to have their shoes put on, not unlike children. If by chance the shoes should be laced too tight, they will whine and speedily make manifest their discomfort, warrging their tails with joy when the shoes are laced to their liking. » VECETABLE CONTORTIONIST. Oueer Frenk of a Little Sprig: of Dog'i Mercury. These t».o pictures relate to an ex traordinary occurrence that befell a p'ant of dog's mercury growing in Charterhouse Copse, in Kngland. A HOW THE PLANT LIFTED THE NUT. hazel nut had been attacked by a nut hatch and a clean round hole made in it at one end—the marks of the blows of the bird's beak being clearly visible in the actual specimen. The nut was dropped by the bird after the kernel had been removed and happened to fall to the ground with the hole down ward. Into this hole grew the tip of the sprouting dog's-mercury, and find ing Itself In a blind alley the plant was compelled to describe a complete circle within the cavity of the nutshell and to emerge at the same hole as that by which it had entered. Having es- HOW STEM CURVED TIIUOUUU NUT. ecuted this gymnastic feat the plant seems to have got along quite happily, for all its upper leaves are quite nor mal, though one of Its lower leaves had to twist itself uncomfortably to get out to the light of day. The plant lifted the nut several Incite--, off the ground as It grew. How Carnal* *»-• In \Val<-r, Camels csuuot swim. They are very buoyaut, but ill balanced, and their heads go under water. They can, how ever, l>e taught to swim rivers with the aid of goatskins or Jars fasteueil* under llu-lr necks. liurlng the Hclu chiotau exis'dlilou of tsti* the cat ads were lowered luto the scii from the ships and the drivers plunging over board, clambered ou the the lumps of their charges, causing the auiuioiV heads to couie up, aud thus assisted the* were successfully piloted ushjirt^ f)R. TALMAGPS SERMOH. SUNDAY'S DISCOURSE BY THE NOTED DIVINE. JJohJeet: Thlekenlnir fSlnom fJrowlne Ol<l Without KHlelnii <% Dlmttal Ppob peet—Consoling Bit are** at I on* to Those Who Have Panned Lifo'i Meridian. rCopyright lwcu.l Washington'. R. O. —ln this sermon Dr. Talniage discourses upon the invita tion given to Christ to stay overnight in the Oriental village, and makes some con solatory suggestions. The text is Luke xxiv. 2!). "Abide with us, for it is toward evening." Two villagers, having concluded their errand in Jerusalem, have started out at the city gate and are on their way to Fmmaus, the place of their residence. They go with a sad h»art. .Tesus, who had heen their admiration and their jov, had hcen baselv massacred and entombed. As. with sad face and broken heart, tlicy pass e— their v><- a stranger accosts them. The'- tell Him t'n-'. anxieties and bitterness of soul. lie in turn talks to them, mightily exnounding the Scriptures. He throws over them the fascination of intelligent conversation. They forget the time and notice not the objects they pass and before thev are awerc have come in front of their house. They pause before the entrance and attempt to pe>-«uade the stranger to tarry with them. Tlhev press upon Him their hospitalities. Night is coming on, and II" mav n prowlin<? wild beast, or h" obliged to he unsheltered from the dew. He cannot go much farther now. Why not stop there and continue their plensant conversation? They tnl-e Him by the arm, and thev insist upon His coming in. addressing Him in the words. "Abide with us. for it is toward evening." The lamps are lighted, the table is spread, pleasant socialtiesareenkindled. They re l'oice in the presence of this stranger guest. He asks a blessing upon the bread they eat. and He hands a piece of it to each. Sud denly and with overwhelming power the thought flashes upon the nstounded peo ple—it is the Lord! And as they sit in breathless wonder. looki"g upon th° resur rected body of Jesus, He vanished. The interview ended. He was gone. With many of us it is a bright sunshiny day of prosperity. There is not a cloud in the skv, not a leaf rustling in the forest. chill in the nir. But we cannot expect this to last. He is not an in'ePigent man who expects perpetual daylight of iov. The sun will after rwhile near the horizon: the shadows will lengthen. While I speak manv of tis stand in the very borr described in the text, "For it is toward evening." The request of the text is appropriate for some in every commu nity, for with them it is toward the even ing of old age. They have passed the me ridian of life. They are sometimes star tled tot iin'; how old they are. They do not, however, like others to remark uno-i it. If others suggest their approximation toward venerable appearance, they «av. "Why, I am not so old, after all." Thev do. indeed, notice that they cannot lift quite as much as once; they cannot walk quite so fast; they cannot read quite so well without spectacles; they cannot so easily recover from n cough or anv occa sional ailment: they have lost their taste for merriment; they are surprised at the quick passacre of the year: they sav that it only se-ms but a little while ago that they were lvoys; they are going a little down hill; there is something in their health, something in their vision, something in their walk, something in their changing associations, something above, something beneath, something within to remind them that it is toward evenini. The great want of all such is to havp .Tomia abide with them. Tt ia a dismal thing to b. l getting old without the reju venating influence of religion. When we stop on the down grade of life and see t lat it dips to the verge of the cold river, we want to behold some one near who will help us ncross it When the sight loses its nower to glance and gather up, we need the faith that can illumine. When v.-e feel the failure of the ear. we need the clear tones of that voire which in olden times broke up the silence of the deaf with cadences of mercy. When the ax men of death hew down whole forests of strength and beauty around us and we are left in solitude, we need the dove of divine merev to sing in our branches. When the shadows begin to fall and we feel that the day is far spent, we need most of all to supplicate the beneficent •Tesus in the prayer of the villagers. "Abide with us. for it is toward evening." The request of the text is an appropriate exclamation for all those who are ap proaching tl<" gloomy hour of temptation. There is nothing easier than to he good natured when everything pleases, or to be humble when there is nothing to puff us uo, or forgiving when we have not been assailed, or honest when we have no in ducement to fraud. I>ut you have felt the grapple of some temptation. Your nature at some time quaked and groaned under the infernal power. You feel that the devil was after you: you saw your Christian graces retreating; you fe;» ed that you would fail in the awful wrestle with sir and be thrown into the dust. The gloom thickened. The first indications of the night were seen. In all the trembling of your soul, in all the infernal miggestiAns of Satan, in all the surging un of tumultuous passions and excitements, you felt with awful emphasis that it was toward even ing. In the tempted hour you need to ask .Tesus to abide with you. You can beat hack the monster that would devour you; you can unhorse the sin that would ride you down; you can sharpen the battleax with which you split the head of helineted abomination. Who helped Paul shake the brazen gated heart of Felix? Who acted like a good sailor when all the crew howled in the Mediterranean shipwreck? Who helped the martyrs to he tirm when one word of recantation would have unfastened the withes of the stake and put out the kindling lire? When the night of the soul came on and all the denizens of darkness came rid ing upon the winds of perdition, who gave strength to the soul? Who gave calmness to the heart? Who broke the spell of infernal enchantment? He who heard the request of the villagers, "Abide with us, for it is toward evening." One of the forts of France was attacked, and the outworks were taken before night. The besieging army lay down, thinking that there was but little to do in the morning, ami that the soldiery in the fort eould be easily made to surrender. Hut during the night, through a back stairs, they escaped into the country. In the morning the besieging army sprang upon the battlements, but lounil that their prey was gone. So when we are assaulted by temptation there is always some secret sUir bv which we might net off. Uod will not allow us to lie tempted above what we are able, but with every tempta tion will bring a way of escape that we may be able to bear it. The prayer of the t.'Xt is appropriate for all who are aiitici|fatiiig sorrow. The greatest folly tli.it ever urew on this planet is the tendency to borrow trouble, out there are times when approaching sorrow is so evident that we need to be making especial preparations lor lis com ing. One of your children lias lately l>e Come a favorite. The cry of that child strikes deeper into the heart than the cry ■if all the others. Vou think more aliout it; you give it more attention. not because it is any more of a treasure than the oth ers, but because it is !>*•< oiniisif flail. There is something IU the cheek, <» the eye and in the Malk that makes you quite sure that the leaves of the (lower are going to be scatter*/. The utmost nursing and luvdical tIU-udauce in tuctfevlual. llie I puis" becomes fopble. the cotnp'exion light* er. the fstep < weaker. the laugh fainter. No more roiripin" for that one through "hall and parlor. The nursery i« darkened by an approaching ea'ariity. Thi> heart feels with nio'irnful i>"tiripation that the sun is go>'nc down. Night speeds on. It is to wfd e v ening. You have Ion" rejoiced in the care of a mother; you have done everything to make her lnf=t davs hanny; you liave run with qt'i'-k feet to wait upon her every want. Her presence ha« been a perpetual blessing in the household. But the fruit eathere-s are looking wistfully at that tree. ITer soul in r<no for heaven. The urates are ready to Hash open for tier en trance. B'lt yot"- soul sinks rt the thought of separation. You cannot bear to think that soon you will be called to take the 'ast look at that face, which from the first hour has look#d unon you with alWtion But you °ce that life is ebbing, and t l '" gr->ve will soon hide her from your sirht. You sit ouiet: you feel heavv hearted. The I't is fading from the sky; the air is chill. It is toward evening. The words of flie text are pertinent to us all from th® fact that we are nearing the evening of death. 1 have heard it said that we oneht to live as though each moment were to be our 'ast. I do not be lieve that theory. As far as preparation is concerned we ou"ht always to be ready, hut we cannot alwavs b» thinking of deaf', for we have duties in life that de mJ"'l our attention. When a man is se'ling goods it is his bus'iess to think of the bargain he is making: when a man is nleadint; in the courts, it is his duty to think of (he in terests of his clients; when a clerk is add in': vp accounts it is his duty to keep his mind unon the column of figures. He who Alls up his 'ife with thoughts of death is far from being the highest style of Chris tian. I knew a man who used often to say at ni<»ht. "I wish I mifht die before morning-!" lie is now an infidel. But there are times when we can and ought to give ourselves to the fontemp'a tion of that solemn moment when to the soul time ends and eternity begins. We must go through that one pass. There is no roundabout way, no bypath, no circuitous route. Jlie we must, and it will be to us a shameful occurrence or a time of admir able behavior. Our friends mav stretch out their hands to keep us back, but no i—•ploration on their nart can hinder us. Thev mieht offer large retainers, but death would not take tlie fee. The breath will fail, and the eyes will close, and the heart will stop. You may hang the couch with gorgeous tapestry, but what does death care for bed curtains? You may banc the room with the finest works of art. but what Hoes death care for pictures? You may fill the house with the wailings of widowhood and orphanage. Does death mind weepin<r? Listen to Paul's battle shout with mis fortune, hark to mounting I.atimer's fire song; look at the glory that hath reft the dungeon and filled the earth and heavens with the crash of the falling manacles of despotism and then look at those who have tried to cure themselves by human prescriptions, attempting to heal gan grene with patch of court plaster and to stop the plague of dying empires with the quackery of earthly wisdom. Nothing can sneak peace to the soul, nothing can un strap our cruphing burdens, nothing can overcome our spiritual foes, nothing can open our eyes to see the surrounding horses and chariots of salvation that fill all the mountains but the voice and com mand of Ilim who stopped one night at Emmaus. You; ought to be willing to exchange your bodv that has headaches and side achcs and weaknesses innumerable, that limps with the stone bruise or festers with the thorn 01 flames on the funeral pyre of fevers, for an incorruptible body and an eve that blinks not before the jasper gates and the great white throne, lint between that and this there is an hour about which no man should be reckless or foolhardy. I doubt not your courage, but I tell you that you will want something better than a strong arm, a good aim and a trusty sword when you come to your last battle. You will need a better robe than any you have in your wardrobe to keep you warm in that place. Circumstances do not make so much dif ference. It may be bright day when you push oiT from the planet, or it may be dark night and while the owl is hootum from the forest. It may be spring, end your »oul may go out among the blossoms, apple orchards swinging their censers in tiie way. It may be winter and the earth in a snow shroud. It may be autumn anil the forests set on tire by the retreating year—dead nature laid out instate. It may be with your wife's hand in your hand, or you may be in a strange hotel, with a servant faithful to the last. It may be in the rail train, shot off tha switch and tumbling ill long reverberation down the embankment—crash, crash! 1 know not the time, 1 know not tho mode, but the days of o*r life are being subtracted uwav, and we shall come down to tiie time wfien we have but ten days left, then nine days, then eight days, then seven days, six days, five days, four days, three days, two days, one day. Then hours, —three hours, two hours, one hour. Then only minutes left—five minutes, four minutes, three minutes, two minutes, orio minute. Then only seconds left—four sec onds, three seconds, two seconds, one sec ond. Gone! The chapter of Iffo ended! The book closed! The pulses at rest! The fe/st through with the journey! The hands closed from all work! No word on the lips! No breath in the nostrils! Hair combed back to lie undisheveled by any human hands. The muscles still. The nerves still. The lungs still. The tongue still. All still. You might put the steth oscope to breast and hear no sound. You might put a speaking trumpet to the ear, but you could not wake the deafness. No motion. No throb. No hie. Still! !still! On earth with many of you the evening is the happiest part of the twenty-four hours. You gather ahout the stand. You talk and laugh and sing. You recount the day. You plan lor the morrow. You have games and repartees. Amid all the toil of the day that -s the goal for whii you run, and as you take out your wateu or look at the descending sun you thrill with the thought that it is toward even ing. So death comes to the disciple. What if the sun of life is about to set? .Testis is tiie dayspriug from on high, tho perpetual morning of every ransomed spirit. What if the darkness comes? .)>«us is the light of the world and of heaven. W hat though this earthly house dots crumble? Jisus has prepared a hou.se of many mansions. Jesus is the anchor that always ho!d». Jesus is the fountain that is never exhausted. Jesus is the evening star hung up amid the gloom of the gathering night. You are almost through with the abuse and backbiting of enemies. They will call vou no more by evil names. Y'our good deeds will not longer be misinterpreted or your honor filched. The troubles of earth will end m the felicities of heaven. To ward evening' The bereavements of earth mil bion In lifted. You will imt much longer stand pouring your griel in the tomu like ltaeliel weeping tor her chil dren or David mourning lor Uisalom. Ili'oken IK ails HTl.uid up. Wound* lulled, ti.irs wiped away. »rrm\< terminated. No in >ie sounding of I le ilcn4 march To ward evening. Iwath will come sweet us slumber to the eyelids of the balie, as full rations to a starving soldier, as evening hour to the exhausted workman. The sky will tak on its sun»et glow, every cloud a lire psalm, every lake a glossy mirror, the forests trails.igurcd, delicate niista ehmhing the air. Your friends will an nounce it, your pulses will beat it, your joys w-U ring it, your lip* will whisper tt, "TuwarU
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